


f-in' skeletons, how do they work

by quezq



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Established Friendship, Fluff, Gen, Tickling, platonic or beginning of romance is your pick too, really just pointless self-indulgent fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-16 05:00:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21030644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quezq/pseuds/quezq
Summary: you find out (skeleton of your choice) is ticklish.





	f-in' skeletons, how do they work

**Author's Note:**

> hhhhhh jfkdhgk kdj gfkl k sdsdkf  
i accidentally deleted this just a few hours after posting it to tumblr, back in may...  
now it sees the light of day once more, revised.

you lie in the silver fluffy rug as is typical of a chilly, rainy friday night, your skeleton friend taking up the bed. sure, it's your bed, but you can't just assign the floor to someone with no meat to cushion their bones. whatever, this feels decent enough, except for the area where your head makes contact with the hard floor. you move positions every once in a while, trying to get comfortable.

he's tapping away on his phone, sound effects on, pacing unusually constant - writing something, perhaps? - while you, more passively, scroll through your favorite social media's feed. the typing sounds are not a bother to you; they're actually quite pleasant.

his presence is the result of an agreement to fight the loneliness you both face some days. it's nothing like accommodating other visitors, where you have to clean up in a hurry before they come and keep trying to make conversation; you two are perfectly content with this shared time and space being absolutely nothing out of the ordinary.

you stop for a moment to contemplate your company. somehow, the fabric covering his ribcage slow and rhythmically rises and descends.  
you know for a fact that he doesn't have lungs, but... monster anatomy has never really made sense anyway. upon noticing your gaze, he quirks a brow bone at you.

"hmm? is anything the matter?"

"no, nothing" you reply, a little guilty for having been caught staring.

in silence, the two of you resume your solo activities. you risk another glance, more subtly this time, only to meet his eyelights focused on your person.

"okay, tell me, what is it? is there something on me?"

"no, i was just... wondering..."

"wondering what?"

"you know, how..."

"do i know?"

"how you... work?"

you were concerned about sounding offensive or even racist (speciesist?) asking that, so you never actually said it to his or any monster's face... sometimes, you'd just get distracted by it, and find yourself unable to keep your mind from coming up with possibilities for the inner workings of a skeleton.

said skeleton, thankfully, remains unfazed by your question.

"uh, well, magic. you know, same as all monsters."

the answer does nothing to satiate your curiosity, and you grow a little agitated.  
"but how? how can you eat and talk without any internal organs? why do you breathe? are there any invisible lungs in there?"

"i'm not aware of any. do you, uh, want to check?"

having spent months hoping to chance a peek at his unclothed body (for perfectly innocent scientific reasons, of course), half of you tells you it'd be horribly rude to do so, but the stronger half is too interested to reject the offer.

"...can i?"

"sure..."

he seems a little nervous but still sits up on the bed, his body language open, inviting. you join, sitting down beside him.

your hand hesitantly moves towards his sweater, and you're suddenly very aware of all your movements. his breath - or whatever that is - has quickened. a faint glow tints his cheekbones, but he's not stopping you.

"you sure it's okay? won't it hurt?"

"nah, it's fine. to hurt me, you'd have to really be trying. intent matters."

trembling just a bit, your fingers tentatively graze his ribs, putting a little more pressure each time you touch. eyelights watch your hand like a hawk, certainly wary despite his previous words.

you try to worm a finger into the space between two ribs, but the sweater's thick, soft fabric is quite the obstacle. he flinches, which makes you quickly retreat your hand.

"s- sorry! sorry! did i-"

"y-you didn't hurt me, don't worry."

"then what...? did i touch something bad? i didn't mean t-"

"hey, relax. i'm the one who told you it was okay. what did you want to feel up in there, anyway?"

"ah, i just wanted to... see if there's any tangible magic...? and how it... moves... sorry..."

he's trying to reassure you more than anything, it seems.

"no, no, it really is fine. here."

he takes your hand in his, bones surprisingly warm against your cold fingers, and guides it under his sweater and onto his ribs, lifting the rim a little for you to comfortably hold your arm in there. he looks away, seemingly flustered, but you don't catch anything negative from it and thus begin your exploration, slowly and gently as not to hurt him again.

this time, it's easy to wrap your fingers around a lower rib. it feels as hollow inside the ribcage as it appears to be... how strange. it's still rising and descending periodically... or would pulsating be a better word? the system moves as a whole, like there's an external driving force to this skeletal torso.

when you move along the bare rib to feel the place where it connects to the sternum, your friend flinches again and lets out what sounds like a cough. he's still avoiding your eyes and not attempting to stop you, so you decide to do it again to test this out. your fingernails gently drag along the length of the rib bone leading to the connection, which feels a little less solid; might be some kind of cartillage...

but you can't think about science and anatomy for long. the skeleton is acting really weird as you play around with the ribs and joints: his face has contorted into a grimace, one hand tightly grips the bedsheet and the other rests on his thigh, balled up into a trembling fist.

"are you okay...?"

he doesn't respond, just closes his eyesockets and breathes more deeply, aiming to steady himself.

you decide to ignore it if he won't talk anyway, and move onto the spine.

"whoa. this is so cool! it's flexible..." you exclaim, running a digit over one of the disks sitting between vertebrae.

he simply nods, and when he opens his eyes, the eyelights are pinpricks, almost out. you're starting to get worried. your fingertips caress up and down his spine, in an attempt to soothe whatever discomfort he's in.

"is... is it bad to touch that? the joints? i'm sorry, i-" your sentence is interrupted by the realization that your skeleton friend is doing a very poor job at concealing the wide grin splitting his face. he squirms a little underneath your touch.

"pal...? am i hurting you?"

"no... d-does--hNN-nt h-hurt..."

"then what...?"

well, since he's so adamant it doesn't hurt, you decide to see what the hell these reactions are about, pinching one of the spinal disks, and he... squeaks. the glow on his cheeks intensifies, spreading, and he promptly hides his face in his hands. "don't!" he protests, but still not manually removing you.

a smirk crosses your lips. how lovely.  
it seems to be triggering interesting responses. your fingers move lower, and pinch another of the disks at the middle of his back. was that... it was definitely a giggle distorted by another squeak.

"oh my god, you're..."

"yeah, yeah, i know! you don't have to say it!" he looks and sounds deeply mortified as he grabs the nearest pillow to shove his face in, but your heart cannot take this.

"aaaw, don't be embarrassed! it's cute!"

your fingers dance on his bones, paying special attention to the susceptible cartillage disks. he's giggling again, hands taking turns leaving the pillow to bat at yours. you retaliate to his defense, adding your other hand to the assault, now able to attack both sides of his ribs at once.

"k-khh! heheheh! eeek!! n-no noohohoho! kh-eheh!" as flight instincts kick in, he falls backwards onto the bed, curling up in fetal position and laughing uncontrollably. the sound isn't at all what you expected; it's higher in pitch than his usual laughter, peppered with squeaks, yet remains melodic as can be. you've never stopped to admire what you heard of it before, but now you'll remember to do so.

what you do admire, however, is how he isn't fighting you off. he's quite a lot stronger than you, despite the obvious lack of muscles, and could easily shove you away in an instant. you're not complaining, of course, because this is fun and he's adorable.

"eeheeheheh! EEEK!" a dual pinch on the disks gets a shriek out of him. these things must be really sensitive. you notice his kicking legs and wonder if...

"AAAHH! k-khH AAIEEEHHEH! KH-K-KHHEHEH! NONONO-"

giving the backs of his knees a similar treatment rewards you with a little freakout and even more helpless squealing.

he finally dives for the siege weapons, grabbing your wrists to move them away from his non-existent skin.

"whyyy? what have i done for you to be so mean to me?" he whines, though there is no edge to it.

you smile back at him as he pants, cheekbones flushed. it's a beautiful sight.

"hmmm... you're being too adorable. that's a crime! and it must be punished!" you say, retrieving a hand from his grip and jabbing at his neck, fingers wiggling. he scrunches up his shoulders, but there's simply not enough substance to help protect his collarbone and cervical vertebrae, and he lets out another fit of giggles.

"okay, sorry, i'll stop now... but seriously, that's so cute."

he ducks his head and looks away, bashful, while hesitantly pulling you in for a hug.

you happily squeeze his body against yours, savoring the perfection of this moment and the hope for more like it to come.

**Author's Note:**

> who'd you pick? :D


End file.
